Nebula

chapter four//caramel apples

DARIA;

 

I stumbled out of the car, bidding the people inside of it goodbye. My luggage bags were in my hands; I looked up and down to see where exactly I was dropped off.

Well, this isn’t Manhattan, I thought.

I walked around for a bit. The neighborhood was horrible – it smelt of sewage and dirty socks.

I could easily afford an apartment here, but, if I learnt something in my almost eighteen years of life, it was to never settle for what I could afford.

I walked farther away, in the direction of the nicer-looking houses. The sun was slowly setting and I had to spend the night somewhere, so I made sure I was walking quickly.

I could see the streets become wider and cleaner, but they were still a wide shot away from where I hoped to, eventually, live.

I could hear the vendors shouting, I could sense the million different smells, as if luring me in. I stopped by one cart advertising caramel-coated apples – they looked delicious.

“How much?” I asked the tiny old lady.

“Two dollars,” she told me. I paid her from the money Kolya had given me for my services. She handed the apple to me.

“Could I rest for a while?” I asked her, pointing to the empty stool that stood by her cart. She nodded.

I ate in silence for a while.

“You aren’t from around, are you?” I asked her. I could hear her accent.

She shrugged and smiled. “I’m not. I’m from Germany.”

I smiled too.

“It’s my first night here, actually,” I told her.

She looked at me.

“Well, why aren’t you sleeping? You probably have a long day ahead tomorrow.”

I sighed and looked up at the stars.

“I don’t actually have a place to sleep at,” I confessed. “And I’m too proud to sleep on the streets. I’d rather not sleep at all.”

She smiled, again.

“I know what you mean – I was like that too. I walked around without sleep for a whole week, until I passed out on the streets one day. They brought me to the hospital, I was so ashamed,” she said.

I nodded.

“Tell me, what’s your name?” she asked.

“Daria,” I told her in between bites. “By the way, this is delicious,” I said, pointing at the almost finished apple.

“And are you true to your heart and hard-working, Daria?” she asked. I had no idea where she was going to with this, but I nodded.

“What would you say if I gave you a place to sleep?” she asked.

“I’d ask why you’re lying to my face,” I answered truthfully.

She laughed.

“Well, I do have a free apartment – all I ask for is that you don’t cause trouble and pay me however much you can that month. No one’s lived in it for a long time, and I can’t allow myself to dust in regularly.”

I squinted my eyes at her. Surely, there must be some hidden motive behind this. This is not a musical, I am no Disney princess.

“That’s all?” I asked.